(navigation image)
Home American Libraries | Canadian Libraries | Universal Library | Community Texts | Project Gutenberg | Children's Library | Biodiversity Heritage Library | Additional Collections
Search: Advanced Search
Anonymous User (login or join us)
Upload
See other formats

Full text of "The workshops and other poems"

m 

i-D 

\ru 



IIP 



i 



m 



OEN2K 





THE AUTHOR "GAY PAGE" 



The Workshops 

and Other Poems 

With Compilation 
by " GAY PAGE " 

Florence N. Homer Sherk 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 




Author of 
" For Valor " " Beauties o New Ontario " 

14 Civics in the Public School" 
" Legends of Lake Superior " Etc. 



FORT WILLIAM, ONTARIO 

THE SUPERIOR PRINTING GO, LIMITED 

TIMES-JOURNAL PRESS 

1919 





MOV 5 



COPYRIGHT, 1919 

BY 

THE SUPERIOR PRINTING CO. 
LIMITED 



THE TIMES-JOURNAL PRESS 

FORT WILLIAM, ONTARIO 

AND PORT ARTHUR 



DEDICATED 

TO 
JAMES HARDY SHEEK 

AND 
"ALL GOOD WORKERS" 



* ' Ho ! all who labor, all who strive ! 

Ye wield a lofty power. 

Do with your might, do with your strength 

Fill every golden hour! 

The glorious privilege 'to do,' 

Is man's most noble dower. 

So, to your birthright and yourselves, 

To your own souls, be true. 

A weary, wretched life is theirs 

Who have no work to do!" 



CONTENTS 

Page 

The Work Shops 1 

Sunlight and Shadow 2 

Home 4 

The Chimes of St. Paul's 4 

Baby Margaret 6 

After School 6 

The Sword of Empire 7 

Mother England 9 

A Welcome Song 10 

Regina 11 

Ho! For Silver Islet 12 

The Elevator Town 13 

Off to the Silver Mountains 15 

Summer at Home 14 

Shirley Poppies 16 

Violets 17 

Maple Leaves 18 

Muskoka 19 

To Isle Royale 20 

A Dream of the Sea . 21 

Sunset and Star 21 

The Waning Year 22 

To the Pied Piper 23 

Pictures On the Wall 25 

A Valentine 25 

St. Patrick's Day 26 

Orange and Green 27 

Easter Lilies .. ....28 



May Day 28 

Thanksgiving 29 

Autumn Rain 30 

Christmas Lights 30 

The Christmas Baby 32 

Christ's Advent 34 

Christmas Greetings .....35 

The Promise 35 

Forget 36 

Sister Lights ; 37 

Mother 38 

In His Hands 39 

In Hope of a Glad Resurrection 40 

Only a Span 41 

Love's Message 42 

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep 43 

Skipping Time ..44 

The Little Scholar 44 

The City's Diadem 48 

Your Paper 49 

The Carrier Boy 51 

The Alchemist's Stone 52 

A Curler's Tea 52 

Loon Lake 54 

The Teacher 57 

The Moon 58 

The Wedding Day 59 

A Vision 59 

Baby Ernest 60 

The Master 61 

I'm Not Afraid to Die ... ....62 



VI 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

The Author Frontispiece 

The Work Shops 2 

Home 4 

Baby Margaret 6 

Canadian Flags, Wolfe's Monument 8 

Outward Bound 12 

My Flowers 14 

Maple Leaves 18 

Isle Royale 20 

Cupid's Camp, Silver Islet 24 

The Promise of May 28 

On the Banks of the Kaministiquia 36 

Hope of a Glad Resurrection 40 

The Best of the Gifts of the Gods 48 

Country Club in War Time 62 

Loon Lake ....54 



VII 



PEEFACE 

Dear pupils of my school-teaching days, 
and dear readers of my ephemeral newspaper 
writing: these verses have been published, 
from time to time, in "my own papers," in 
other Canadian newspapers, in magazines in 
Canada, the United States and England one 
of them forty years ago, many of them over 
twenty years ago, some of them since the Great 
War began. My only excuse for the folly of 
collecting them in book form is that I do not 
want to be forgotten. This vanity alone is 
responsible for what will bring me very limited 
fame and no fortune. All I ask, when I sleep 
on the hill near Mount McKay, is that my poor 
verses will be read by old friends and old 
pupils to remind them of one who loved to 
record their many good deeds, with the hope 
that some of the verses may be worth remem- 
bering. 

This confession I make in hope of absolu- 
tion by loyal friends and my old pupils. 

FLORENCE N. SHERK, 

(Gay Page.) 



THE WORK SHOPS 



Clang! clang! clang! 

How the great hammers rang, 
With never a moment of quiet between! 

Prom morning to night 

They were swung by the might 
Of the strong arms, all brawny and blackened, 
I ween. 

For the clang! clang! clang! 

As it noisily rang, 
Seemed ever its deafening din to increase 

Till a fair lady cried, 

As she plaintively sighed, 
"How I wish that its horrible clamor might 
cease!" 

But soon came a day 

When the great workshops lay 
All silent and dim, like a giant asleep ; 

And the strong arms that swung 

The great hammers now hung 
Like the sails of a vessel becalmed on the deep. 

For the clang ! clang ! clang ! 

No longer it rang, 

And the stout heart grew faint, and the calm 
eye turned wild; 

For what can be worse, 

Or more bitter a curse, 

Than no work, to win bread for the mother and 
child? 



THE WORK SHOPS 



And then, once again, 

Like a glad, joyous strain 
Of music the sweetest, was borne on the air 

The hammer's quick blow, 

As it swung to and fro, 

Keeping time to the music of hearts free from 
care. 

For the clang! clang! clang! 

Now joyfully rang, 
Like a paean of victory, buoyant and free! 

And sad hearts grew light, 

As lips whispered at night, 
" Thank God who sends labor for you and for 
me!" 



SUNLIGHT AND SHADOW ON 
MOUNTAIN AND SEA 

Bird-like our vessel skimmed light o'er the 

waters, 
While the storm clouds around us loomed 

dark o'er the lea, 
But with happy hearts free from all troubled 

forebodings 

We saw but the sunlight on mountain and 
sea. 



AND OTHER POEMS 3 

Dark grew the hills and the valleys around us, 
And shadows enveloped the mountain's high 

crest, 
But our eyes looked ahead where the sunlight 

was flashing 

And the blue sky smiled bravely at fear and 
unrest. 

The misty shapes, looming so dark all around 

us, 
Were changed by the sunlight to opal and 

pearl : 
And, veiling in beauty each headland and 

island, 
Pale amethyst curtains around them unfurl. 

Fair, fair looked those headlands and islands 

before us, 
And the rings of green light swept the dark- 

' shadowed lea, 
Till the opal and amethyst gems were 

embedded 

In bright golden sunlight on mountain and 
sea! 



THE WORK SHOPS 






HOME? 

I asked my soul the meaning of that word ; 
A glow, like sun-kissed sea, my pulses stirred 
When answer came, like song of forest bird : 

II 'Tis where you know some heart beats true 

and warm, 

'Because' you're near, in sunshine or in storm; 
'Tis someone wanting you ; 
'Tis someone always true ; 

'Tis heavenly echoes through earth's shadows 
heard." 



THE CHIMES OF ST. PAUL'S 

Beautiful, beautiful bells! 
Ring out sweet melody; 

Chiming, chiming, 
Your highest notes of praise 

In glad Doxology, 
Until the shells hear the silver bells 

And echo the strains o'er the sea! 

Ring out, beautiful bells, 
Away to the distant sea; 

Singing, singing, 
Far out beyond our shores, 





a HOME 

b "IN SUNSHINE AND IN STORM" 



AND OTHER POEMS 



Until the echoes bring 
On soft winds blown, from every zone, 

The heart's "Sweet Home" when you 
sing! 

Sing louder, beautiful bells! 
Sing out melodious truths; 

Telling, telling, 
Tales of dear Motherland, 

Tales of deep mystery; 
Legends that bring to the feet of our king 

Bright gold for our history! 

Sing softly, beautiful bells! 
Sing sweet, sweet harmony; 

Swelling, swelling, 
Love's trembling notes divine; 

Of joyous, gladsome birth ; 
Sound the toll that tells when the heavenly 

bells 
Are calling our loved from earth! 



THE WORK SHOPS 



BABY MARGARET 

'There are babies and babies," said Patsy, 
"But none like this sweetest new girl! 

Daddy calls her his dear little Peggy, 

But her real name is Margaret a pearl. 

'Does she fear that we don't want to keep her 
That she holds to my finger so fast? 

Why, Daddy says every new baby 

Is a far finer one than the last!" 



AFTER SCHOOL 

When the school is closed at evening, 
And I hear the gay "Good-night!" 
As the troops of merry children 
Scamper home with hearts so light, 
And their happy, gleeful voices, 
Clear and joyous, reach my ear, 
Like the warble of the song birds 
In the springtime of the year, 

I forget the care and trouble 
They have caused me through the day, 
And I pray that God will keep them 
Free from guilt through life's rough way; 




BABY MARGARET 



AND OTHER POEMS 



Keep my boys from dark temptation, 
Be a lamp unto their feet ; 
Give my girls the loving patience 
Future cares and griefs to meet. 

And I pray for help and wisdom 

For myself, that I may be 

More like that great Guide and Teacher, 

Patient, gentle, pure as He. 

And I pray that when the twilight 

Comes to me, and day grows dim, 

He will let me join the children, 

Take me safe to Heaven and Him. 



THE SWORD OF EMPIRE 



From far Pacific ocean waves that lave 

Columbia's shore, 
To Nova Scotia's rugged coast resounded, as 

of yore, 
The lusty cheer the world might hear as men 

went marching by, 
Till wounded warriors staggered home to tell 

how brave men die. 
No sound of trumpet echoed the burden of 

their tale, 
But broken soldiers proudly flung its glories 

to the gale. 
And o 'er Canadian mountains and from 

prairies of the west, 



8 THE WORK SHOPS 



From roses and from shamrocks, from the 

thistle's hardy breast, 
From fleur-de-lis and maple, faithful to the 

sacred soil, 
Came a cry to those who guarded treasured 

blessings by their toil 
' ' Leave the plowshare and the harrow ! Brain 

and brawn must bend to yield 
Greater harvest for the Empire on the blood- 
red battle field!" 
Then, indeed, a sound like thunder rose from 

river, lake and plains, 
True and clear as blood that courses through 

the bold Canadian veins, 
For to more than sound of battle did the 

banners beckon now 
Fleur-de-lis and rose and shamrock, maple 

leaf and thistle, bow 
As the sword of Freedom knights them 

champions of the King above, 
Who hath given to their keeping peace and joy 

for those they love. 
Now the blessed word of Angels shall the 

sword of Empire bear. 
And the cross and crown and flow 'rets laud 

the King in praise and prayer! 




CANADIAN FLAGS ON WOLFE'S MONUMENT, 
WESTMINSTER ABBEY 



AND OTHER POEMS 



"MOTHER ENGLAND" 



"That day will never come when scattered nations 
of the British race, looking with loyal love from every 
compass, to the little mother isles 

.'Girt by the dim straight sea, 

And multitudinous wall of wandering wave,' 

and reposing safe and glorious in that sapphire em- 
brace, shall turn round to call on Canada to add her 
voice to swell the peal of filial gratulation, of proud 
assurance of co-operation, and, if need be, of help 
and will turn in vain." 

(Nicholas Flood Davin, in Shaftsbury Hall 
speech, Toronto, 1873.) 



We love thee, Mother England! 

There is no other word 
Our hearts can feel, our lips can breathe, 

Our ears have ever heard 

That thrills like "Mother England! 

("Step-mother," if you will , 
That word but proves her mother-love 

.Diviner, deeper still!) 

We love thee, Mother England, 

Whose arms still open wide 

To welcome those who fain would fly 
For shelter to thy side. 

Who loves not Mother England 

Must worse than bastard be ! 

For bended twigs take root and grow 
About the mother-tree. 



10 THE WORK SHOPS 

That fungus, Mother England, 

That parasite, who lives 
Upon thy strength who only takes, 

And no protection gives 

Deserves, dear Mother England, 

No other name to own 
But Viper vile, ' ' that stings the breast 

Whereon its strength has grown! 1 



A WELCOME SONG 



Secure in God's own might, 

Across the ocean wave 
Good ships have borne you home, 

With other hearts as brave ! 

With valiant, daring men, 
From ends of all the earth, 

We welcome you to whom 
The Empire owes new birth. 

Thrilling with joy, we greet 
Each clear-eyed, smiling lad; 

The march of homeward feet 
Ringing with triumph glad! 



AND OTHER POEMS 



No sadness dims our song. 

In Heaven the valiant dead, 
With voices proudly strong, 

The triumph anthems led ! 

They sing with Him who faced 
The path they late have trod ; 

Upon their brows He placed 
The sign "Set free for God!" 

Sons of a famous land, 
Whose fame your courage gave 

Welcome! our hero band, 
The bravest of the brave ! 

NOTE Sung at Welcome Home service to the 52nd 
Battalion, C. E. F., and all returned men, Sunday, 
March 30th, 1919, in St. Paul's and in St. Luke's 
churches, Fort William. 



EEGINA 

Regina, the Queen of the Prairies ! 

Saskatchewan's star of the West! 
Her diadem royal, red roses, 

Bright eglantine gems on her breast. 

Silver-bordered by lovely Wascana 
Lie the green velvet folds of her train ; 

Sapphire blue-bells and bright Shasta daisy 
Gem the links in her glittering chain. 



12 THE WORK SHOPS 

* 

She smiles on her scarlet-clad guardsmen, 
Standing close to the folds of her gown, 

Like the spears lying hid 'neath the petals 
Of the rose in her radiant crown. 

And her beautiful head bows before them 
In sweet, stately homage, I ween, 

When she thinks how they fought for old 

England, 
As they'd fight for their dear Prairie Queen. 

Woe betide the rash foe who should venture 
To touch the rich gems on her breast, 

While her scarlet-clad guardsmen surround 

her, 
Regina, the Queen of the West! 



HO! FOE SILVER ISLET 

Leave behind the dusty office, 

Step away from busy stores, 
Down the slope along the subway 

Leading to the pier-lined shores ; 
Till you see the tall masts clust'ring, 

And the smoke-stacks looking black, 
And the little tug-boats flirting 

Up and down the harbor track; 
Till, across the rippling harbor, 

You can see the ships that be 
Inbound laden with the treasures 

From across our inland sea. 




p 3" 
o if 

bJO 

.S i 

3 



AND OTHER POEMS 13 

Let the gallant Sigma bear you 

O'er the gleaming waters soon, 
While the music softly echoes, 

And the waves repeat the tune. 
Then, through purple shades of twilight, 

In the summer's slumber gleam, . 

Home again across the waters 

With the ships of song and dream. 



THE ELEVATOR TOWN 

We have gained such wide renown 

As ''The Elevator Town," 
That the tourists, when they strike the place, 
all cry : 

' * Here 's a bloomin ' how d 'you do ! 

There are twenty-four in view, 
And another one, b'Jove, is on the w'y !" 

For the place has passed, y'see, 

Quite beyond its 'A,' <B,"C," 
But we'll climb the lot, or know the reason 
w'y; 

Then, if further sport we want, 

We can cross the Hellespont, 
An' toddle to the top of Mount McKay!" 

NOTE The original elevators were the three 
C. P. R. elevators, named, in order of building, 
A., B. and C. 



14 THE WORK SHOPS 

SUMMER AT HOME MY 
FLOWERS 

I can see them crimson roses, 

All aglow with Love's desire, 
Poppy heads of scarlet splendor, 

Like a flame of colored fire ; 
Purple pansies, with their faces 

Looking up in wide-eyed wonder, 
Waving ferns with fronds soft curling, 

Blue-bell sapphires gleaming under; 
Marguerites with hearts of amber, 

Cornflowers blue, and marigold, 
Honeysuckles sweet that clamber, 
Morning glories gay unfold, 
But the sweetest incense swinging 
Comes from clover blossoms sere, 
Crushed by baby fingers, bringing 

Posies bright for ''Mother dear." 




MY FLOWERS 



AND OTHER POEMS 1 5 

OFF TO THE SILVER MOUNTAINS 

Come boys, come boys, won't you go with me? 

It's off to the hills we'll go, 
And watch the mining of the silver lining 

Of New Ontario. 

Chorus 

Away to the Silver Mountains, 

Away to the hills we'll go, 
Where the shining beam of the silver gleams 

In New Ontario. 

Come girls, come girls, choose your colors 
now 

Choose the copper's dull red glow, 
Or the iron's bright flare in its molten glare, 

In New Ontario. 

Chorus 

Come boys, come girls; copper, gold, or iron, 

Beauty, and strength, and glow, 
Are the treasurers rare that are garnered 
there, 

In New Ontario. 

Chorus 



16 THE WORK SHOPS 

SHIRLEY POPPIES 



I knew you first in pictures drawn 
Of English flowers in golden grain; 

Here, in this dear Canadian home, 
You steal into my heart again. 

Love's long ethereal days are done 
The stubble, left from golden corn, 

Hurts like the waking from a dream 
Of Love's sweet raptures newly-born. 

But all your lovely petals hold, 

In carmine flakes of tender bloom, 

The spirit of departed joys, 

Like fires' that light the winter gloom. 

You warm to life youth's fading leaves, 
Bid gardens smile 'mid winter tears ; 

In each red chalice glows the wine 

Safe garnered from Love's ruby years. 




THE MAPLE AVENUE, SHERKSTON 



AND OTHER POEMS 17 



VIOLETS 



Sweet-scented violets, purple and white, 
Cool with the dews of morn, bathed in God's 

light ! 

White for the flag of truce, tidings of peace, 
Joys borne to hearts at home, bidding tears 

cease. 

Sweet-scented violets, purple and white, 
Heavy with morning dew dew-dimmed 

our sight, 
Purple for brave hearts stilled love-light all 

fled, 
Echoes that ceaseless wake, mourning our 

dead. 

Sweet-scented violets, purple and white, 
Mingling your fragrance out in God 's light ! 
Wear them to honor lives, strong to the end, 
Given for Cross and King, homeland and friend ! 



NOTE Written in memory of Lieut. Harold Lothrop 
Borden, only son of Sir Frederick and Lady Borden, 
killed in action in South Africa, 1900, Lady Borden 
having written that the little children gathered violets 
to decorate his grave. 



J8 THE WORK SHOPS 

MAPLE LEAVES 

You sent them leaves of Maple, 
Filled with the sun 's rich wine, 

To spur them on to valor 
Along the battle line. 

They'll see, in glorious vision, 
The warm red leaves between, 

Their fair Canadian homeland, 
In well-remembered scene. 

They'll hear us sing "The Maple, 
That lovingest of songs, 

And all the dear old music 
For which a lone heart longs. 

And, like a giant rising 
Refreshed anew with wine, 

A Titan proud and mighty 
Will tower along the line. 

Your leaves of flaming Maple 
Will gleam like swords of fire, 

And win, with blood-red emblem, 
Their goal of heart's desire! 



AND OTHER POEMS 19 

MUSKOKA 

A joyous call we hear, like voice of Spring, 
From fair Muskoka's shore, whose jeweled ring 
Gleams where the opal waves, in music, fling 
Storm-green and turquoise light, aurora cold, 
Or dawn and twilight's ruby gems, and gold 

Till evening's shadow mist, 

Of rare, pale amethyst, 

Star-flecked, hangs glittering. 

Bright waters, where the sunlight paints each 

wave 
With colored shadow-tints the soft clouds 

gave, 

Curve, like a fond embracing arm, to lave 
The lovely island shores of green, that rise, 
Horizon-circled, 'neath the cobalt skies 

Dappled with clouds of pearl, 

That, lilac lined, unfurl 

Their pennons free and brave ! 

Muskoka ! young in freshness and delight, 
Old on Time's page thy beauty and thy might 
Call not in vain across the waters bright! 
The way-worn traveller towards life's sunset 

hue 
Finds Youth reflected in thy waters blue ; 

Thy pulsing bosom, cool 

As blest Bethesda's pool, 

Gives joy and life, and light! 



20 THE WORK SHOPS 

TO ISLE EOYALE 

Kaministikwia 's clear waters, 

(Note the hour and set your clock), 
Will be shining in the sunlight 

While the low waves roll and rock. 
With the seagull's graceful motion. 

Outward bound the vessel dips, 
Past the tow 'ring elevators, 

Past the slender-masted ships; 
While the low, hoarse steamer whistles 

Sound their signals through the air, 
With the lemon-funneled liners 

Belching smoke-wreaths here and there. 
Out across the shining waters 

Steadily the vessel swings, 
Towards the capes that part the currents 

Of the north wind's winnowing wings. 
O'er Superior's broad bosom, 

Borne by winds so strong and free, 
Drifts the old bewitching music 

Of the blue melodious sea ! 
And the deep, rich notes are singing 

Of the emerald gems that hide 
Where Isle Royale nestles proudly, 

Kissed by bold Superior's tide. 
And he woos the queenly maiden, 

With his murmurs soft and low 
Back to loyal hearts that love her- 

Will she say him "Yes" or "No?" 



AND OTHER POEMS 21 

A DREAM OP THE SEA 

I closed my eyes to seek tranquility, 
And from afar, serene, and calm, and free. 
Came to my soul the heaven of the Sea. 
Beneath the warm caresses of the sun, 
Each wave, in white guimpe, like a holy nun, 

Murmured a song of peace, 

Of joys to bring surcease 

Of pain eternally. 



SUNSET AND STAR 

Splendor-gleams of pearl and amber paint the 

sky where sunset's dying, 
Where the shadow of the evening like my lady's 

veil is flying 
Curling softly over red lips and her locks of 

golden brown 
Soft'ning hues of flame and russet in a mesh 

of dewy mist, 
Toning down the crimson glory with faint film 

of amethyst, 
Curling softly till it shadows eyes of blue and 

golden crown. 



THE WORK SHOPS 



But the night's soft mass of splendor, where 
the moonbeams shine and shimmer, 

Over robes of sable wonder lit with starshine 
all a-glimmer, 

When, like fireflies through the darkness, all 
the city watchlights burn, 

And the stars look smiling downward on those 
tiny jets of brightness 

Fills my heart with peaceful music and a joy- 
ous happy lightness, 

For the city's mirrored starlight is the gleam 
of hope 's return. 



THE WANING YEAE 

"Swift, sweet birds with sudden flying, 
Quick as thought that the heart 's love flings, 

Stay with us ah! can the year be dying! 

Stay with us, stay but a little longer, 

Swift, sweet birds with your glancing wings ! 

"Wait, ah! wait, happy golden hours, 
Wait till the spirit's wings are stronger! 

Must you, too, follow the birds and flowers? 
Wait, ah! wait, but a little longer." 



AND OTHER POEMS 23 

But sweeter than mine are the voices low 

calling ! 
Stronger the south wind, so summer must 

die; 
Fairer spring's blossoms than autumn leaves 

falling- 
Flowers and bright hours, I bid you good- 
bye! 



TO THE PIED PIPER 

Years ago, in Hamelin's city, 

(Hamelin, doomed, for broken vow, 
To the silence and the sorrow 

That my soul is dreading now) 
In your wrath you lured the children 

By your music weird and sweet, 
Till they left their toys and mothers, 

Followed you with eager feet. 

All but one of all that number, 

All that laughing, dancing tide, 
Reached at last the wondrous portal 

Opened in the mountain side. 
Still you charm all crippled children, 

Since that poor, lame boy stood still, 

Left alone against his will. 
Listening for your mystic music, 



24 THE WORK SHOPS 

Now you come, my child alluring, 

Till he longs to join your train; 
All in vain my tender pleading, 

Tears and moaning all in vain! 
He has heard your sweet, low music, 

And the hectic glow burns bright, 
For he longs to join the dancers, 

Step, like them, so gay and light. 

He believes that in that country 

Are no tired nor crippled feet; 
So he longs to hear you call him 

With your music soft and sweet. 
But I cannot hear the music 

I can only hear the wind, 
And the ceaseless sobbing, sobbing, 

Of the sad hearts left behind. 

All life's music, all its brightness, 

All the joy that earth can know, 
All life's sweetness die forever, 

If you bid my darling go. 
Oh ! forgive those broken pledges ! 

Let me share my loved one 's joy ! 
Let me hear your magic music ! 

Let me follow with my boy! 




CUPID'S CAMP 
SILVER ISLET 



AND OTHER POEMS 25 

PICTUEES ON THE WALL 

Smiling eyes that never waver, 

From their places on the wall, 
Meet my wistful, yearning glances, 

When the twilight shadows fall. 

Calm and steadfast, all unchanging, 

Mutely answering to mine; 
But their living joy and sweetness 

Into other eyes now shine. 

Will "her" love, that wakes such lovelight, 
Burn as bright when years have flown ? 

Will her loving heart 's devotion 
Bring you memories of my own ? 

Will the tender love I gave you, 

Mirrored in their dear eyes, fall 
From the faces of her children, 

When they hang upon your wall? 



A VALENTINE 

'The god of love, ah, "benedicite," 
How mighty and how great a lord is he !" 

: The rose is red, the violet blue, ' ' 
These words you wrote, dear, years ago, 

: Like violets blue your heart is true ; 
Love lights your cheek with rose's glow." 



26 THE WORK SHOPS 

But sweeter far, to me, today, 

Your eyes that still with lovelight shine, 
Though years have dimmed the rose's glow, 

And silver locks mark life's decline. 

'Tis only love like this can bring 
To life the dead leaves of the past, 

Can wake again the flowers of spring 
And bid June's roses always last. 



ST. PATRICK'S DAY 

Let Irish hearts and Irish hands, 
This day, the wide world over, 
Unite in love and pledge anew 
Firm faith with friend and brother! 
Let Ireland's sons and daughters true 
At Patrick 's shrine their vows renew ! 

O blessed Saint, whose magic voice, 
The legend tells, had power 
To drive each venomed creature forth 
That lurked in stream or bower, 
And made our Emerald Island worth, 
To Irish hearts, a Heaven on earth. 

Still keep our hearts and lives as pure 
As that Green Island's beauty, 
That no vile thought be found entwined 
With Irish love and duty ! 
That friend or foe may ever find 
But purest gems in heart and mind! 



AND OTHER POEMS 27 

Where'er the Thistle and the Rose 

Are nestled close together, 

The Shamrock green for aye is seen, 

Or sprig of Irish heather. 
More loyal hearts have never been 
Than hearts that beat beneath the green! 

Then let this emblem of the spring 
Be each true heart's adorning, 
While Erin's praises loud we sing 
This bright St. Patrick's morning! 

May hope through all our anthems ring 

At each succeeding gathering ! 



ORANGE AND GREEN 

Earth wears the green today, my boys, 

The color ever true; 
She weaves its verdure all about 

The orange and the blue ! 

Arrayed in brilliant blue above, 

The spreading sky is seen, 
But the mantle of our mother earth 

Is still the glorious green. 

And, blending with her emerald robe, 

The orange flowers unfold; 
While Kathleen's eyes of blue outshine 

Both green and cups of gold. 



28 THE WORK SHOPS 

EASTEE LILIES 

Where the water lies stagnant and silent, 

No life-giving glow on its breast; 
Where the slime round the noisome reed 
gathers, 

Till we shudder with fear and unrest, 
Lo! borne on the dark water's bosom, 

The lily's fair petals unfold 
In all their white wonderful beauty, 

Each bearing a chalice of gold. 

So, out of the heart's darkest shadows, 

From the pain and the terrors of sin, 
Comes the glow of the glad resurrection 

From the guilt and the torments within. 
wonderful sunlight of Heaven! 

wonderful love that must flow, 
To quicken such beauty and sweetness 

In the fen of the Serpent below! 



MAY DAY 

The brown buds are breaking, 
The lilies are waking, 

The snow-drops are calling today; 
Soft piping of plovers, 
Those plaintive spring lovers, 

All helping to welcome the May. 



AND OTHER POEMS 29 

Nest-hunters are singing, 
On bare branches swinging 

Brave warblers, so merry and gay! 
Bold Robin, the rover, 
And bees, hunting clover, 

All hasten to welcome the May. 

'Tis not thy glad bringing 
Of blue skies, nor singing 

Alone that win welcome, fair May, 
But the glorious meaning 
Of thy tender leaning 

Towards summer's still lovelier day. 



THANKSGIVING 

Thank God for every weather, 

The sunshine and the wet ; 
For roses and for pansies 

And perfumed mignonette, 
And, after summer blessings, 

May others follow fast, 
Until our lips may whisper, 

" Thank God for peace at last!" 



30 THE WORK SHOPS 

AUTUMN RAIN 

From a cold sky forth, 

Far up in the north, 
The wild wind cries across the leas, 
The clouds in anger lower down, 
Till their tears fall over the naked trees, 
Sob-shaken for loss of their ivy gown. 

Like a funeral pall 

Dark shadows fall, 

That curtain over the heart's bright glow, 
Till we turn from the rain on the window pane, 
And pray for the gleam of the falling snow 
To hide the place where our flowers have lain. 



CHRISTMAS LIGHTS 

When, silently beaming, that glorious artist, 
The Moon, with soft colors, is painting the 

night, 
And shedding her bright beams where shadows 

are darkest, 
And filling the earth with her soft silv'ry 

light 

I think of the angels who came in the moon- 
light 

With the message of peace to the shep- 
herds of yore 



AND OTHER POEMS 31 

And told them of Him who should save them 

from sin, 

And free them from sorrow and death 
evermore. 

Silently, in the cloudless sky, 

The silv'ry stars their vigils kept, 
And solemnly the night swept by, 

While hill and mount and valley slept. 
In splendor the moon had arisen, 

And her chalice of silvery light 
Ran over, and flooded the valleys 

With a sea of glory that night. 

But what doth mean that gleam that 

comes, 

Brighter than moonlight, from afar, 
With life and hope in every beam? 

It was the bright, the Morning Star! 
The shepherds saw the glorious light, 
But knew not what its radiance 

meant, 
Till a sweet choir of angels bright, 

With shining wings, from heaven was 
sent! 

The silent hills made no reply 

As through the air the anthem rolled : 
"A Child is born in Bethlehem, 

The Prince by prophets long fore- 
told." 



32 THE WORK SHOPS 



1 ' Peace ! Peace on earth ! ' ' the angels sang, 
" Peace on the earth, from shore to 

shore ( 

The peace that Man has wanted long 
Peace with his God, f orevermore ! " 

Still, silently beaming, that glorious artist, 
The Moon, with soft colors, will paint the 

deep night, 
And shed her bright beams where the 

shadows are darkest, 
And flood the whole earth with her soft, 

silv'ry light! 
And we know that the angels will come in the 

moonlight 
With a message of peace to our hearts, 

as of yore; 
Though the red stars have met in the dark 

vault of heaven, 

The Morning Star shines o 'er the earth 
evermore ! 



THE CHEISTMAS BABY 

Hail ! Sweet first-born son, that cometh 
To this snow-clad home of ours ! 

Tell us, on what love-sent mission, 

Hast thou come from Eden's bowers? 



AND OTHER POEMS 33 

Tell us that we may receive it 

While thy young life, free from guile, 
Bears the impress yet of heaven, 

And the angel's holy smile. 

Art thou come to tell the story, 

Told by angels long ago, 
Of a kind and loving Saviour, 

Sent to save from sin and woe? 

Ah! We need to be reminded 

Of that Advent, o'er and o'er, 

That our hearts may learn to love Him 
And His holy name adore. 

Did He. send thee, darling baby, 

To remind us of His love, 
How He came, like thee, all sinless, 

From the heavenly courts above. 

To this earth, so cold and sinful, 

Here to suffer grief and pain, 

That our hearts, through His atonement, 

Might be washed from sin's dark stain? 

Blessed Jesu ! Child of Mary ! 

Be this infant's guide, we pray. 
May Thy presence never leave him, 

Keep him pure from day to day. 



34 THE WORK SHOPS 

CHRIST'S ADVENT 

Once again the Gates are opened; 

Once again those seraphs bright, 
Heralds of a joy eternal, 

Fill the earth with heaven's own light. 

Now the peace "that passeth knowledge," 
Soothes each sin-sick, aching breast, 

And a sweet foretaste is given 
Of a pure, eternal rest. 

Christ has come ! the earth proclaims it ! 

For the heart, so cold erstwhile, 
E'en to bitt'rest foe is warming 

'Neath the Christ Child 's holy smile. 

And the closed hand now is opened 

To His poor, and, tenderly, 
We may hear a sweet voice whisper, 

"Ye have done it unto Me!" 

Then that false usurper, Satan, 

Vanquished, leaves his throne, our 
hearts, 

And a gentle, loving Saviour 

Mandate sweet to us imparts. 

This is why the little children 

Seem more dear at Christmastide 

Of His kingdom they are emblems, 

Close to Him our steps they guide. 






AND OTHER POEMS 35 

Blessed Jesus ! Child of Mary ! 

Teach each mother heart to pray 
That Thy presence ne'er may leave them 

Christmas keep from day to day ! 






CHRISTMAS GREETINGS 

A happy, happy Christmastide 
Be yours, with its merry cheer; 

Any may you garner the wine of joy 
From grapes of the glad new year. 



Cheery wishes, hearty greetings 

Take from me this Christmas day, 

Happiness and health and fortune 
Go with you upon life's way. 



THE PROMISE 

You told me, ere sadly you left me, 

Yet hopeful, with manhood's true pride, 
To find, 'mid the flowers of the prairie, 

A home for your happy young bride, 
How sweet it would be, in the future, 

When the labors of day were all o'er 
If I'd meet you with smiles and with kisses, 

And welcome you in at the door. 



36 THE WORK SHOPS 

And now, after long months of labor, 

As I clasp the dear hands once again, 
That have roughened with toil, that my roses 

Might bloom without thorns on the 

plain 
And you tell of the little thatched cottage 

That is waiting for me on the moor, 
I promise to meet you with kisses 

And welcome you in at the door. 

I promise to love and to honor, 

And your voice ever gladly obey, 
And, forsaking all others, prove faithful 

Till God's voice shall call me away. 
And should God, in His bounteous love, 
bless us 

In our basket as well as our store, 
I'll teach them to meet you with kisses 

And welcome you in at the door! 



FORGET 



Love's meagre dole cannot banish all sorrow, 

Nor Memory's sweetness o'ershadow regret; 
Evening's grey cloud holds no hope for to- 
morrow, 

So the heart turns in welcome to Wisdom's 
"Forget!" 




ON THE BANKS OF THE KAMINISTIQUIA 



AND OTHER POEMS 37 

Wisdom would burn all the bridges behind me, 
Leaving Hope no return to the old hours 

but yet, 

Fond Memory's sweetness and fragrance re- 
mind me 

Love bridges all streams, and Love cannot 
forget. 



SISTER LIGHTS 

The pearl-grey light of the morning . 

Chased shadows and work away, 
With mellow tints adorning 

The eastern gates of day, 
But my work and the silver moonbeams, 

And stars of the silent night, 
Hold a glory far more lovely 

To me than the garish light. 

I think of a sleepless vigil 

That kept laboring pace with mine, 
Where the hours, 'mid dim watchlight shadows, 

Drag on in unending line; 
Where day, with its tarrying moments 

Made heavy and drear with pain, 
Brings only a prayer for darkness, 

And the gleam from a window pane. 

For the window-shine through the shadow, 

In the hush of the silent night, 
Tells of work that makes night travel faster, 



38 THE WORK SHOPS 

As the stars tell of heaven 's glad light. 
So the world, with its ceaseless labor, 

Its mornings of pearly grey, 
And its evenings of restful shadow 

Tell of heaven's eternal day. 



MOTHEE 

The hymns she loved, the holy melodies 

Stirred all our hearts as soft Hosannas ring 

Like heavenly music borne upon the breeze, 
That lifts our hearts to where God 's angels 
sing. 

The flowers she loved we laid them on her 

bier; 

The roses red and white upon her breast ; 
And fragrant lilacs, that she held so dear, 
Drooped tenderly o'er hands and heart at 
rest. 

The one she loved beside him on the hill, 
She waits translation to their home above. 

Dear heavenly Father, bid our hearts be still, 
Nor doubt that resurrection and Thy love. 



AND OTHER POEMS 39 

IN HIS HANDS 

To-night with sweetest words and fond 
caresses 

You lull your babe to rest; 
Tonight, upon the hill, the cold earth presses 

My darling to her breast. 
In the morn your love may rise 

From her warm, soft cradle bed ; 
Bitter tears will dim my eyes, 

I can not be comforted. 

If you should near the vale of Death tomorrow, 

If you should hear the call 
That bids you leave, for aye, this world of 
sorrow, 

Its sin, its fears and all 
Earthly cares, your heart would cry 

"Spare me yet, O Lord, I pray! 
Who will guard my child, if I 

From her side be called away?" 

faithless ones, to doubt our heavenly 
Father! 

Lord, bid our hearts be still; 
Nor faint, nor falter at Thy word, but rather 

Kejoice to do Thy will. 
Can He not thy loved one keep 

In that path by Jesus trod? 
For my darling should I weep? 

Safe at home, she "walks with God." 



40 THE WORK SHOPS 

IN HOPE OF A GLAD 
EESUEEECTION 

On the snow-covered hill you are slumbering, 
dearie, 

Far, far away from your warm home to-night ; 

For your love and caresses my heart grows 
a-weary, 

And calls to your bed 'neath the winter moon- 
light. 

Deep under the snow, where the angel of 

shadow 

Presses you close 'neath the fold of his wing, 
The Angel of Life is now calling: in whispers : 
" Waken, sweet flower, to the voice of the 

spring ! ' ' 

Dear Mother Earth to her loving breast gathers 
All the sweet treasures of times long gone by; 
Flowers we thought faded and dead gone 

forever 
Still they are near us, they somewhere are 

nigh. 

Come, at the call of my heart, O my darling ! 
Twine your arms round my neck as you did 

long ago, 
Let me share your sweet rest till the last Easter 

morning 
Let me slumber beside you under the snow. 




IN HOPE OF A GLAD RESURRECTION 



AND OTHER POEMS 41 

ONLY A SPAN 



TORONTO, July 26th. The body of a seven-year- 
old girl was found in the bay at the foot of George 
street this morning. It was identified as that of little 
Beckie Silverman, a poor, small wanderer of the city, 
who has often been taken care of by the police. 



Only a span one arch of the seven, 

Graceful and strong, by the Master designed ; 
Stretching from earth towards the borders of 

heaven, 

Formed to withstand life 's rough billows and 
wind. 

Planned but the builders unheeded the blow- 
ing, 

Recked not the roar of the tempest and rain ; 
Carelessly placed they the keystone, unknow- 
ing 

How cruel the strength of the fierce hurri- 
cane. 

Love, the grand keystone the Architect chooses 
Strongly to bind childhood's years in their 

span, 

Lies on the shore, while the workman refuses 
The stone that the Master has marked for His 
plan. 



42 THE WORK SHOPS 

Too late, when the storm and the tempest are 

ended, 
The stone they rejected lies there in their 

sight ; 
But the work that the Master has placed in 

their keeping 

Lies wrecked 'neath the waves on this dark, 
bitter night. 






LOVE'S MESSAGE 

We had entered the valley of shadow, 
With its vista of sorrow and fears, 

Where Death, with his sickle, was waiting, 
And our hearts were too heavy for tears. 

For our Rosebud must pass on to meet him, 
All alone she must suffer the blow 

That would strike like the sharp, poisoned 

arrow 
In the heart of a young, bounding doe. 

When I heard the sweet voice calling 
"Mother!" 

And with hands stretched for loving embrace, 
"I just wanted to tell you I love you," 

She whispered, and fondled my face, 
"That's just all that I wanted," Forever 

Will those sweet, loving words ever bless, 
And their music dispel the dark shadows 

With their sweetness of loving caress. 



AND OTHER POEMS 43 

NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP 

Rosebud lay, one summer evening, 

In her warm, soft trundle bed, 
With her small hands folded softly, 

As in prayer, above her head. 
Then she whispered gently, /'Mother," 

Fixing loving eyes on me, 
While a thoughtful, wistful shadow 

Seemed to veil the childish glee, 
: ' Mother dear, when you have kissed me, 

And before I go to sleep, 
Folding hands, like this, above me, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep. 
Then He comes and gently leads me 

To a land that's far away, 
Beautiful with light and glory, 

Where the blessed angels stay. 
There I gather, in His gardens, 

Lovely roses, lilies white, 
Singing with the holy angels 

Sweetest songs all through the night. 
When the morning comes, you call me, 

And I waken from my sleep, 
He gives back the soul I gave him 

Safely in His heaven to keep. 
And I can remember only 

Just like happy, happy dreams, 
Lilies white and wreaths of roses, 

And those wondrous, shining streams!" 



44 THE WORK SHOPS 

SKIPPING TIME 



With a hippity-hop, and ring-the-bell, 

From school the girls come skipping; 

Then, climb-the-ladder, and wring-the-cloth, 
In a merry, tuneful tripping. 

And the boys all follow, in gleeful hope, 
For pepper-and-salt comes after; 

And it takes a strong hand to turn the rope, 
Keeping time to the lilting laughter. 

"Turn the skipping rope for me 

Turn it steady, fast, dear! 
And I will be your own true love 

When I'm 'caught out' at last, dear!" 






THE LITTLE SCHOLAE 

(Written for the Educational Journal) 



Mother, the bells are ringing! 

Please bring my book and slate. 
'Tis strange I slept so soundly 

I never yet was late. 

You know, our teacher, mother, 
Though kind, is very firm. 

I've tried so hard to please her, 
And lose no marks this term. 



AND OTHER POEMS 45 

My brothers must be waiting 

I feel so strangely weak! 
What mean those sighs, dear mother, 

Those tears upon your cheek? 

Ah, now I know ! for never 

I'll need my books again. 
Is that the thought, dear mother, 

That fills your heart with pain? 

But do not grieve so sadly, 

For, when I sank to rest, 
A glorious vision came to me 

While leaning on your breast. 

I thought I started early 

Upon my way to school, 
And hastened quickly onward, 
To keep the opening rule. 

When, all at once around me 

There shone a radiant light 
That changed the glistening snow-drifts 
To banks of flowers bright. 

And, through a narrow pathway, 

Just wide enough for two, 
A Presence seemed to guide me, 
I thought, at first, 'twas you. 



46 THE WORK SHOPS 

Then, looking up in wonder, 

My eyes beheld a face 

So sweet, so pure, so holy, 

So bright with kingly grace, 

A fear, at first, possessed me, 

That, when He'd learn my name, 
He'd turn in sorrow from me 

My guilt would bring Him shame. 

But, "Come to Me, and fear not!" 
I heard a sweet voice say, 

And then I knew 'twas Jesus, 
And followed in the way. 

And soon we reached the portals 
Of that fair Heavenly Home, 

Upon whose wall is written: 
"No guilt may ever come!" 

There, 'mid the undimmed glory 
Of Heaven's perfect day, 

Ten thousand, thousand children 
Their harps triumphant play. 

They sing the old, old story 

Of Christ's most wondrous love, 
Who left, for little children, 
Those Heavenly courts above, 

Where all is pure and holy, 

A child on earth to be, 
That He might learn the trials 

Of little ones like me. 



AND OTHER POEMS 47 

And this is why the Master 

Is patient when we err, 
And why that love, so tender, 

Our hearts within us stir. 

And lessons grand He teaches, 

From grass and lilies fair, 
And leads the children 'mid the flowers 

That hide no sharp thorns there. 

So tell my school-mates, mother, 
To read the Book He's given, 

And early seek His courts, that they 
May not be late for Heaven. 

Tell them that narrow pathway 
Is not so cold and drear, 
As they who know it not have told 
And filled their hearts with fear. 

How can it be but pleasant, 

That path by Jesus trod? 

Around his feet rich treasures 

Spring forth from every sod ! 

And, when our earthly lessons 
Are learned with patient care, 

Hell ring for us the Heavenly bells. 
To call His children there! 




48 THE WORK SHOPS 

THE CITY'S DIADEM 
The Hills of Peace 

The gifts of the gods lay at her feet, 

In the jewelled Sea with its treasure fleet, 

Its emerald islands, fair and sweet, 

Veiled in amethyst glow, 

While, soft and low, 
The waters wooed with caressing flow. 

But the longing Sea with its lust of gain, 
Its ceaseless surges of joy and pain, 
Sang its cadence of luring love in vain ; 

For she sought hearts' ease, 

Where all turmoils cease 
And the best of the gifts of the gods is peace. 

So she turned at the hills' and meadows' call, 
Where the Sun lets his gold-dust lightly fall 
On the palace dome and the cottage wall ; 

And he whispered low, 

As he crowned her brow, 
"On the hills lie the gods' best gifts, I trow." 




"THE BEST OP THE GIFTS OF THE GODS IS PEACE' 



AND OTHER POEMS 49 

YOUR PAPEE 

I've seen by your faces how gladly you've 

welcomed 

The paper each day, as you opened the door, 
And gaily I've whistled to think of the 

pleasure 

It showers alike on the rich and the poor. 
And, as your eyes fall on its clear printed 

pages, 

Not blotted and blurred, as so often appears, 
Which makes people think of the stammer and 

stutter 
Which falsehood begins with, which scrutiny 

fears 

You'll find on its pages the latest home gossip 
Of happenings new in our own city fair, 
For we know how its progress and pleasure 

will charm you, 
Its weal or its woe all your sympathy share. 

So, into the workshop, the school and the 

churches, 
A "ehiel" goes among you with notebook in 

hand, 
And he "prents" in his paper the deeds worth 

recording 

Of clergy, and laymen, and statesmen so grand. 
Then news you may read in this wonderful 

paper, 



50 THE WORK SHOPS 

From near and from far, your hours to be- 
- guile; 

And the merchant and housewife, the school- 
boy and teacher, 

Find subjects to interest or bring forth a 
smile. 

It tells of the advent of each little stranger 
That comes to our world from the Heaven 

above, 

Of wedding bells joyful, and bells tolling sadly 
For the passing away of the friends that we 

love. 

And now, when you read it, this festival season, 
That brings kindly gifts to the young and the 

old, 
Eemember the news-boy who brings you this 

paper 
Through storm and through sunshine, through 

heat and through cold. 

And blessings and joy will he wish you forever, 
And see that your paper each day will appear, 
If you 11 cheerfully help make for him what 

he wishes 
To all of its readers A Happy New Year! 



AND OTHER POEMS 51 

THE CAEEIER BOY 

'Tis easy to tell 

That Kris Kringle's been here, 

For the air is resounding 

With hearty good cheer, 

Bright smiles wreathe the faces 

Of young and of old, 

And they laugh at the Storm King, 

The frost and the cold. 

Blest Santa Glaus labored 

Till dawn of the day, 

And his gifts in each stocking 

Were safe stored away: 

Then he chuckled with glee 

As he thought how the light 

Of his coming would fill 

The whole earth with delight! 

So he sprang to his place, 

To his team cried, "Away!" 

But he checked them again 

With a cry of dismay 

For, lo ! in the twilight, 

His face lit with joy, 

Stood, expectantly waiting, 

A Carrier Boy. 

"God bless me," cried Santa Claus, 
"What shall I do? 

I've forgotten to give 

The poor 'devil' his due!" 



52 THE WORK SHOPS 

But a merry voice shouted: 
"Dear Chris, have no fear! 
For our patrons ensure us 
A Happy New Year ! ' ' 



THE ALCHEMIST'S STONE 

At last 'tis discovered the stone which the 

Magi 
For ages have longed for and sought for 

in vain; 

That changes to gold every object it touches, 
And restores to mankind his lost Eden 

again. 
'Tis a wonderful gem it has power to endow 

you 
With all that the alchemist's power can 

bestow ; 

And the name of this magical, wonderful jewel 
That lends such enchantment is " Pay-as- 
you-go. " 



A CUELEES' TEA 

When a' the bonspiel wark is dune 
Ye '11 gang awa wi' me, 

An' hae a richt gude cheerfu' sip 
O''the bonnie curlers' tea. 



AND OTHER POEMS 53 



The bonniest lassies o' the toon, 

In kirtles gay, ye '11 see; 
Sae, "Soop her up" my boys, the nicht, 
Then hae a cup o' tea. 

There's naethin' like the roarin' game 

An appetite tae gie; 
An' a' the gude things ye can min' 
Upon the boord ye '11 see. 

The sonsiest lassies o' the toon 

'111 wait on you an' me, 
An' turn oor thochts tae ither rings 

Beside the curlers' tee. 

There's scones an' bannocks, Bubbly Jock, 

Tae fair delicht yir e'e; 
Cuddle ma dearie, callops Scotch, 

Sic like ye ne 'er did see ! 

An' a' the bonniest o' the Ian* 

Tae wait on you an' me; 
Sae skirl awa' the besom, mon, 

An' gang an' hae yir tea. 

Whiles stane an' besom fly like mad, 

An' curlers shout wi' glee, 
"Noo mon, sweep hard!" an' "Soop her up!" 

As in the auld countrie. 



54 THE WORK SHOPS 

Each douce an' bonny leddy fair 
'111 wark like ony bee, 

Tae win yir siller at the ha' 

An' cook the curlers' tea! 



LOON LAKE 

Golden pavements there are none; 

Silver sands, beneath our feet, 
In this city of our dreams, 

Echo only cadence sweet 
Of the dip of Norah's paddle 

As it dances to her song 
"Daisies, waken! ferns, uncurl! 

Sing and laugh the whole day long! 

All the birds and bees that waken 

To the warmth of summer hours, 
Tell of laughing waves that sparkle 

Joyous welcome to the flowers. 
Twilight with its rosy sunsets 

Dreams of this glad day will bring ; 
Star anemones will offer 

Praise ineffable of Spring!" 




i n n \ t - 



<T 



MINNE-WA-WA 



AND OTHER POEMS 55 



COMPILATION 

OF 

ADAPTED 
VERSE 



AND OTHER POEMS 57 

THE TEACHER 

Weary and faint, and tired, 

I sit in my stiff-backed chair-; 

Without, wild flowers' perfume 

Is borne on the ambient air, 
And yonder shady wood 

That I see through the open door, 
Mocks, with its murmur cool, 

Hard seat and dusty floor. 

And Willie, with bare, brown feet, 

Is longing to wade in the stream, 
Where the trout, to his luring bait, 

Will leap with a quick, bright gleam 
And his teacher's eyes will stray 

To the flowers on the desk hard by, 
And her thoughts will follow the gaze 

With a half-unconscious sigh. 

Have patience, restless Will, 

The brook and the fish will wait, 
Soon the bare, brown feet may pass 

Down the winding road from the gate; 
And to me full soon will come 

The sweet perfume of the flowers 
I'll turn to my books again, 

And leave love for the after hours! 



58 



THE WORK SHOPS 



THE MOON 

The Moon is a glorious artist, 
She paints the silent night; 

Where gloomy shades are darkest 
She sheds her silvery light. 

Her palette is the brilliant sun, 
From whence she takes her hue, 

Her landscape is the verdant earth 
And all the azure blue. 

Her station is the lofty heavens, 

Amid the starry host, 
Her critic is the eye of God, 

She loves to please the most. 

Her pencil is obedience still 
To Nature's law divine, 

And God, in His great wisdom, 
Produced the grand design! 



E. w. 



AND OTHER POEMS 59 

THE WEDDING DAY 

Our wedding day, years score and five ago 
Dear heart, I heard you say, 
If months, or years, or ages since have passed 
I know not. I have ceased to question time, 

I only know 

That once there pealed a chime of joyous bells, 
And all stood back, and none my right denied. 

And forth we walked 
And since that day I count my life 

The past is washed away. 

Dedicated to Queen Mary on the twenty- 
fifth anniversary of her wedding day, June 6, 
1918, and graciously accepted by Her Majesty. 



A VISION 

The pure snow was quietly falling 

And shrouding the land all in white, 
And hiding, like Charity's mantle, 

Earth's stains and its evil from sight. 
It was changing the evergreen pine-trees 

From em 'raid to purest of pearl, 
And cov'ring with glistening snow-wreaths 

The grave of my lost little girl. 



60 



THE WORK SHOPS 



1 'Oh! Come back to mother, my darling, 

I cried in my daring despair, 
When lo ! like a halo from heaven, 

A light filled the ambient air; 
And the light and sweet voices of angels 

Seemed to hover just over my head, 
And a voice rose above the soft music, 

"Oh, why do you weep for the dead? 

"She is safe in the arms of the Saviour 

Free forever from sorrow or pain ; 
Would you summon her back from that heaven 

To earth and its sorrows again ? 
Soon, soon will your journey be ended, 

That bliss and her presence to share, 
Soon your darling will bid you a welcome 

To the joys that are waiting you there/* 



BABY EENEST 

Sweetly Baby Ernest sleeps 
In his warm, soft cradle bed; 

But his mother only weeps, 
And can not be comforted. 

Only yesternight it seems 
Since she sang his lullaby, 

Kissed his lips for smiling dreams, 
Kissed each drowsy-lidded eye. 

Then his lips were warm and red, 
Eyelids faintly tinged with rose; 

Now his lips are cold and dead, 
Eyelids white as winter snows. 



AND OTHER POEMS 61 

Then the baby slept, reclined 

In his own soft cradle bed, 
Now his couch is satin-lined, 

And the baby boy is dead ! 

When he smiled in healthy sleep, 
Angels spoke to him, we thought, 

And this sweet belief I keep 
He the angel language caught. 

And, when angel fingers light 

Sealed his lips and closed his eyes, 

Baby clasped them with delight, 
Led by them to Paradise ! 



THE MASTER 

"The Master has come over Jordon," 
Said Hannah, the mother, one day ; 

"He is healing the people who throng Him, 
With a touch of His finger, they say. 

"So now I shall carry the children, 
Little Rachael, and Samuel, and John, 

And the little baby, Esther, 
For the Lord to look upon." 

' ' Now, why dost thou trouble the Master, ' ' 
Said Peter, * * with children like these ? 

Know'st thou not that, from morning till 

evening, 
He healeth and cureth disease?" 



62 THE WORK SHOPS 

But, ' ' Hinder them not, ' ' cried the Master, 
' * Let the little ones come unto Me ! ' ' 

Then His arm around Eachael He folded, 
And Esther He took on His knee. 



I'M NOT AFRAID TO DIE 

A dying boy lay watching 

The summer sun go down; 
-He thought it like a golden gem 

In the Redeemer's crown. 

His soft blue eyes were sunken, 
And his cheeks were very pale, 

Except two little hectic spots 
That told their own sad tale. 

Alas! for many, many days 
The suffering child had lain 

Upon his little narrow couch, 
In agony and pain. 

But he loved to see the sun set 

Upon his little bed, 
As it shed a gentle halo 

About his dying head. 

He watched the last, faint rays depart, 

Then said, as oft before, 
" Mother, the sun's gone down again, 

Shall I ever see it more ? ' ' 



AND OTHER POEMS 63 

But a brighter sun was shining 

About that little cot; 
The Sun of Righteousness was there, 

Whom the world seeth not. 

"Mother, I'm not afraid to die,'* 

The little sufferer said, 
"For Jesus seems so very nigh, 

So close about my bed. 

I soon shall go to Heaven, Mother, 

Jesus will let me in, 
Because, you know, He died, Mother, 

To wash away my sin. 

And I shall wear a white robe, 

And sing His praise all day, 
And Jesus, with His own soft hand, 

Shall wipe my tears away. 

I hear the sweetest music 

When you think I am asleep 
I'm sure it is the angels, 

But, Mother, do not weep! 

You would not wish to keep me, 

To suffer longer here, 
When Jesus kindly calls me, 

Oh, would you, Mother dear?" 



64 THE WORK SHOPS 

"Oh, 'tis so hard to part, my child," 

The weeping mother cried; 
"And you are all I have on earth, 

I have no one beside ! 

I shall miss you very sadly, 
But I know I should not weep, 

For you say that Jesus loves you, 
And He your soul will keep. 

I would that I could trust Him, 

Like you, my gentle boy, 
But all is dark within me, 

I have no hidden joy." 

' ' Oh, Mother, do not say so ! 

But tell to Him your grief; 
He will not cast you from Him, 

But soon will send relief. 

Tell Him you're poor and wretched, 
And ask Him for His grace, 

And soon He will reveal to you 
The brightness of His face. 

Fly to the cross of Jesus, 
And wrestle hard in prayer, 

Ask Him to help you with His strength, 
And He will meet you there. 









AND OTHER POEMS 65 

Oh ! when I think of parting, Mother, 

Never to meet again, 
The thought it almost kills me 

It fills my heart with pain. 

But something seems to tell me 

That we shall meet once more, 
Never to part again, Mother, 

Upon that happy shore. 

And now 'tis growing dark, Mother, 

Please raise my head again. 
I feel a little weak, Mother, 

But not so much in pain." 

His mother gently raised him 

He breathed a little prayer 
The damp of death was on his brow, 

But an angel 's smile was there. 

Thus, leaning on her bosom, 

He breathed his latest sigh, 
And softly murmured forth the words, 

"I'm not afraid to die!" 



SH.ERK, F.N.H. PR 


9319 
The Workshops and .H54 


other poems . 


DATE 


ISSUED TO 


















PR 
9319 
.H54